


Just Now Landing

by voleuse



Category: Justified
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:55:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24761173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/pseuds/voleuse
Summary: Rachel wasn't one to share, not if she could help it.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	Just Now Landing

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly set a bit after 2.04, "Blood and Money," ended.

Grandma sold out cheap and they moved out west of Pineville  
To a farm where Big Richland River winds  
And I bet they danced them a jig  
And they laughed and sang a new song  
"Who said we'd never leave Harlan alive"

Rachel didn't remember, really, what she had been doing when she found out Shawnee was dead. She didn't remember what happened right afterward either--there's an almost-blank spot in her memory, a blur of tinny voices and muggy colors.

She remembered being crouched in her ma's kitchen, wrapping her arms around Nick where he had kneeled. She remembered her ma, stroking her hair while she was on the phone with the hospital. She remembered clenching her hands around the wheel of her car to make them stop shaking before she got out.

She went back to work, after she and her ma had Nick settled, as much he could be. When she walked into the office, that first day back, nobody said a word. 

She sat at her desk and clicked open her email. She didn't realize it that day, or in the days following, but whenever her left hand wasn't busy, it rested on the cross she wore around her neck.

***

There was, in fact, a significant amount of paperwork to be done when you've killed a man during a stand-off with your on-the-run convicted brother-in-law.

Once in a while, she'd catch Raylan looking over, drinking his coffee and ignoring his own stack of forms to complete. After the third or fourth time, she set her pen down and swung around to face him. "What?"

"I'm mostly convinced Arlo has had some hand in a death or two," Raylan said, "but to my knowledge, not a one of them was somebody for whom I'd spent most of my life caring."

Rachel folded her arms. "I did not want to shoot Clinton." Raylan tilted his head. "Okay, I did not want to shoot Clinton _much_. And I didn't."

"Seems to me," Raylan said, "there's some of what they'd call 'inner conflict' when one's family with someone they don't really trust, or even like."

"Raylan, are you trying to bond with me?"

He flipped his hat around in his hands. "It working?"

There was a quiet scrape as Tim rolled back his chair and stood. "Seems like there's a lot of emotions being discussed, and I'd really like it to stop."

Raylan spun around slowly. "I've had a round or two with the department shrink after, let's say, circumstances in which I deemed my draw necessary."

"Just two?" Tim nodded before continuing. "I heard they'd given you a punch card."

Rachel tried to resume her paperwork without drawing attention, but unfortunately their banter ended with a short discussion about who was more of an asshole.

"Listen," Tim said, "I have to head out to Bardstown for an escort, but I'll be back by afternoon." He leaned on the divider. "We can go out this evening and have a couple of drinks, enjoy some awkward silence before going our separate ways."

"How awkward are you thinkin'?" Raylan asked.

Rachel cleared her throat. "If I say yes, will both of you stop talking to me?"

***

After dinner, Leslie disappeared into the kitchen to tend to the dishes ("Don't you dare try to help me") and slice up the pecan pie Rachel had brought. After pouring them both a glass ("Leslie's not so much for this on the regular"), Art tipped his head back and stared up at the ceiling.

"I hope," Rachel said carefully, "you didn't invite me to dinner because you're worried I'm--"

Art snorted. "'Course not." He took a quick sip of his bourbon. "But I have been thinking about how the shooting might impact you in other ways."

"Other ways like...?"

Art cleared his throat. "Of course we don't go out planning to end somebody," he held a hand up as Rachel started to talk, "but having to work through the aftermath does give you a helpful window."

"A window?" Rachel raised her bourbon, breathed the smell in for a moment.

"On how situations like these might affect deputies under your command."

Rachel was in the middle of taking a sip and had to take a moment to process what Art had said. " _My_ command?"

"You've been on my team for a fair amount of time," Art said. "I think it's time we start talking about whatever you'll want to do next."

"Meaning," Rachel said, "my ten-year plan?"

"Something like that." Art smiled as Leslie re-entered the room, balancing three plates of pies in her hands. "And these kind of talks always go better with pie."

Rachel smiled. "You do this with all your deputies?"

Art raised an eyebrow. "You think Raylan deserves any kind of pie?"

Rachel was the first to start laughing, and once they'd stopped to breathe, they settled down to really talk.

**Author's Note:**

> Title adapted from "[What I Believe](http://www.jeff-worley.com/jeff/samples/sample-a-little-luck/)" by Jeff Worley. Epigraph taken from "[You'll Never Leave Harlan Alive](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cco-pCb0klU)," performed by Darrell Scott.


End file.
